


Work Song

by towalkinyourlight



Category: Stitchers (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 05:52:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6411460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/towalkinyourlight/pseuds/towalkinyourlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cameron Goodkin is a man of many talents, but when Kirsten wakes up to him singing one morning, she is taken by surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Work Song

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely love this song, and it reminds of Camsten every time. Hope you enjoy!  
> Based around the song "Work Song" by Hozier

It didn’t matter how much Camille teased her, Kirsten would never get over how much she liked spending the night at Cameron’s apartment. For one, it was free of Camille and Linus’s frequent escapades, and Cameron always had food when Camille forgot to go shopping. His heater hardly ever went out, unlike their rickety old house from the seventies, and he had a nice view of the city at night time. They weren’t the most important reasons, though. When the nightmares would hit—and did they hit hard after Cameron’s stint with death—his presence brought her comfort the way nothing else could. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat under her cheek, the weight of his strong arms wrapped around her waist, his contented and sleepy little smile as they lay there together, these were the reasons she stayed.   
Her favorite part was the mornings. Cameron would wake first, going out for a quick run before making breakfast for the both of them while she slept. Then her alarm would go off, she’d roll out of bed in her pajamas, and he would give her food and coffee until she woke up fully, his cheery morning demeanor counteracting her irritation of having to be awake. It had become their daily routine, and she loved having a little regularity in her life.  
Normally, he’d go about his business in silence to let her sleep as long as she could, but this morning was different. As her eyes slowly opened, blinking and bleary, Kirsten wasn’t entirely sure what woke her up. Turning to face the alarm clock, she noted that it still had half an hour to go before it went off. Early morning sunlight was streaming through the window in the corner, and per usual, Cameron was in the kitchen, soft music trickling through the bedroom door that was slightly ajar. Nothing seemed amiss, not that she could sense. Rolling off of the mattress with a groan, she straightened her pajama bottoms before crossing the room to retrieve a sweatshirt from one of his drawers.  
As she slipped the fabric over her head, she froze, suddenly realizing what had woken her up. Drifting in from the kitchen was the soft tones of quiet music, and as she got closer to the bedroom door, she realized the noise was coming from Cameron. Furrowing her brow, she slipped quietly out of his room and into the apartment.   
He was in the kitchen, pouring pancake batter onto a pan, and swaying absentmindedly around the room. Still in his workout clothes, he had his headphones in his ears and his eyes closed, engrossed in his music. He didn’t hear her pad into the kitchen, and Kirsten prepared to snap at him, irritated that he’d woken her up earlier than usual, but then he started singing.  
My babe would never fret none  
About what my hands and my body done   
If the lord don’t forgive me   
I’d still have my baby and my babe would have me  
It was a low earthy sound, full of passion and melody; she’d never heard singing quite like it. His sensual voice soared and lilted with the music, each vibrato and crescendo leaving his lips with beauty and clarity. As he sang, he stepped in intricate patterns around the counter, in his own little world of sound. The pancakes lay forgotten on the stove, getting browner by the second.  
When I was kissing on my baby  
She put her love down soft and sweet  
In the low lamplight I was free  
Heaven and hell were words to me  
His voice, low and quiet, made her freeze where she stood. She knew a lot about Cameron—how he took his coffee, what time he called his sister every week, where he hid the Nutella to prevent her from eating it all—but she had no idea he could sing like that. Like every fiber of his being was humming and vibrating in perfect melody to the notes slipping from his lips. An unconscious smile was playing over his mouth, and Kirsten had never seen him so serene.  
When my time comes around  
Lay me gently in the cold dark earth  
No grave can hold my body down  
I’ll crawl home to her  
Kirsten sucked in a sharp breath as his voice grew, those words playing over in her head. She was enraptured, watching in awe as he stepped lightly around the kitchen. His body and soul moving to the music. It was a side of him she’d never seen before, and it was beautiful.  
Seeming to remember the pancakes, he suddenly opened his eyes and flipped them over, only then noticing Kirsten standing there, staring at him in awe. He startled, pulling out his headphones and accidently dropping his spatula.  
“Kirsten!” He exclaimed, a blush creeping into his cheeks. “How-how long have you been standing there?” He scratched his neck awkwardly, his voice a higher pitch than normal.  
“I didn’t know you could sing.” She replied, cutting straight to the point, and padded over to one of the barstools. Cameron blushed harder and turned back to the pancakes.  
“Oh, I don’t sing. Definitely not.” He mumbled, his back to her. She smirked slightly.  
“Well, you definitely dance, then.” She replied fidgeting with the strings of the jacket she was wearing. He whipped around, his hazel eyes going wide.  
“You saw that too?” He exclaimed, looking more than a little mortified. Kirsten just smiled.   
“This is really embarrassing.” He muttered putting his face in his hands, once again ignoring the quickly blackening pancakes on the stove.  
“It would be embarrassing if you weren’t so good.” She deadpanned, hopping off her stool to attend to the food. “Why didn’t you tell me you were so musically inclined?”  
“I just don’t like to talk about it, I guess. I took lessons after my surgery…” He faltered for a moment, and a tinge of sadness brushed across Kirsten. “So… I guess it just kind of reminds me of how weak everyone thought I was.”  
“Well, you should sing more.” She told him. “It was worth your time; you’re absolutely amazing.” He was silent for a moment, and Kirsten looked back up at him. He was smiling softly, looking at her appreciatively.  
“Thanks, Stretch.” He said quietly.  
“Any time, Twinkletoes.” She winked back.


End file.
